


All or Nothing - Prequel

by Fyre



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 18:46:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1754459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long before the Civil War took hold, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were friends. Sometimes, they were even more than that.</p><p>Technically, a prequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1705277/chapters/3630626">All or Nothing</a>, my Steampunk Civil War AU. But can work as a free-standing story :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All or Nothing - Prequel

**Author's Note:**

> All or Nothing is one of my current epics (Steampunk Civil War AU as opposed to Cold War AU or Peggy as Winter Soldier AU), but because of the time frame featured, I wasn't able to provide much of the Steve/Bucky dynamic so far. This fic is just for my own satisfaction and a sampler of just how married Steve and Bucky were in this verse :)

**1857 - New York City**

It wasn’t much, just a couple of basement rooms, one with a bed and one with a small fireplace and barely enough room for two chairs, but it was more than Steve could have hoped for.

“If you want another cot, you’ll have to get it yourself,” the housekeeper warned.

Bucky looked at Steve, raising his eyebrows. “Good enough for you?”

“It’s got a bed and walls and isn’t about to get flooded,” Steve said. “I’m good with that.” He looked at the small cot against the wall. “If the cot’s too small, we can get another.”

Bucky turned back to grin out of the window, peering up at the street above.

The housekeeper, a grouchy old woman called Pettigrew, nodded. “You’re taking it then?”

“What do you think, Buck?”

“I think I’m old enough to be living with someone who isn’t my mother,” Bucky replied with a nonchalant shrug. “I’m in if you are.”

Steve tried to keep the stupid grin off his face. He could tell by the way Bucky was bouncing on his toes that he was more excited than he was letting on. He didn’t even turn around until Steve finished counting out two months rent into Mrs Pettigrew’s hand.

“When can we move in?” Bucky asked, thumbs hooked around his belt. 

Mrs Pettigrew looked him up and down. “Room’s yours,” she said. “No fraternising with drunkards. No women of ill-repute. No gatherings.”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky said virtuously and Steve was amazed he didn’t choke. “We don’t do that kind of thing.” 

He almost even bowed, and Steve had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. Why people always believed Bucky, he never knew, but they always did. Bucky insisted he had honest eyes. Steve insisted just as loudly that he was very good at being a lying asshole. 

Mrs Pettigrew was fooled just like everyone else.

She took the key from the lock and handed it over, and just like that, he and Bucky had their own place. He smiled politely until she left, but before he could say a word, Bucky snatched the key from him, crossed the floor and locked the door behind their landlady.

With the same intent, he pulled the curtains closed on the one window, leaving them in a dim little box.

“Already, Buck?” Steve said, smiling.

Bucky was already shoving his suspenders down off his shoulders as he turned. “What do you think, Rogers?”

Steve didn’t know which of them moved first, but they met in the middle of the room and Buck’s mouth was on his, and Buck’s hand was in his hair, tilting his head back, and he was pulling at Bucky’s shirt, spreading his hands on Bucky’s bare chest.

Bucky drew back from the kiss with a hiss. “God, Rogers! Don’t you ever warm those up?”

“If I did, what would you complain about?” Steve asked, laughing.

Bucky looked down at him, all dark-eyed and intent. “I’m pretty sure I could find something,” he said heatedly. His hand was still cradling Steve’s head, and his other hand was on Steve’s hip, guiding him back a step at a time. “Like your smart mouth. The way you always talk back. The way you never let me finish…”

Steve pulled his head down and kissed him. “Shut up, Buck,” he whispered against Bucky’s lips, darting his tongue along them. Bucky shivered, his fingers curling against the back of Steve’s neck.

“God, Steve…”

It was one thing to slip away and touch each other in the darkness of an abandoned warehouse or hidden in the long grass or under the pier, but this was different and they both knew it. This was their place, paid for with their money, and they were going to be living in it together.

Steve slid his hand up Bucky’s chest, fingertips pressing gently just below Bucky’s collarbone. “Come to bed with me?” he asked breathlessly. 

The smile that lit Bucky’s face was brilliant. “You sure?”

Steve curled his fingers, his nails scratching slowly down Bucky’s chest. “Unless you don’t want to.”

Bucky almost growled at him, and Steve only managed to back up a step before Bucky bent and grabbed him and flung him squarely over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

“Buck!”

“Shut up, Rogers,” Bucky said, striding towards the bedroom.

He tipped Steve down onto the cot, and was on him in a second, his mouth hot and wet and demanding. Steve shoved at his shirt, pushing it down over Bucky’s shoulders, his cool hands running up and down Bucky’s bare back. 

Bucky drew back, panting, and Steve could see the marks of his own teeth Bucky’s lower lip. “What do you want me to do, Steve?” he whispered, bracing his body over Steve’s on the bed. “What do you want?”

Steve’s breath was coming too fast and his heart was beating too quick, and his pants felt too tight for him. Bucky’s face was so close to his and it was almost too dark to see, but only almost, and the gleam of his eyes was bright and wicked and his breath was so warm. 

They didn’t have to be afraid of anyone walking in on them. They didn’t have to be ready to break cover and run if someone saw them. They didn’t have to do any of that, and Bucky was over him, and Steve could feel the press of him through his pants.

God, he was breathing too hard, and his mind was running away with him, and all he could do was slide his hands down and squeeze Bucky’s ass through his pants, pulling him down and closer to him.

Of all the things they’d done, all the secret ways they’d touched each other, they’d never been alone like this, able to do whatever they wanted. They could do anything they wanted, anything at all, and no one could stop them, and all he could think to do was just hold Bucky right there over him.

He knew Bucky knew the feeling, because Bucky’s lips just brushed his, barely even touching, barely even grazing. 

“You okay, Rogers?” Bucky whispered.

Steve nodded wordlessly, leaning up to kiss him. “I’m good, Buck,” he whispered. “Never thought we’d be like this.”

Bucky smiled against his lips. “You got no imagination,” he whispered. “I’ve pictured this a thousand times.” He slid his hand under Steve’s head, holding him there. “Want me to show you?”

Steve’s mouth felt dry. He darted out his tongue to lick his lower lip and caught Bucky’s as well. “Yeah,” he replied. “Show me what you got.”

Bucky’s mouth was on his again, but softer this time, his tongue teasing along Steve’s lips and stroking against his tongue. His hips shifted and Steve’s breath caught between them as Bucky’s hips pressed down against his. 

“All or nothing?” Bucky whispered playfully and Steve smacked him on the ass, stifling a laugh.

All or nothing was their watchword.

That was how he’d ended up with Bucky’s mouth around his cock when they were fifteen. That was how he’d ended up pressed up against the wall of a packing warehouse, his hand down the front of Bucky’s pants when they were sixteen. That was how he’d ended up sitting by the riverbank telling Bucky that he was never going to marry because even if there were some nice girls out there, he didn’t want any of them.

All or nothing.

It started out as a dare, and became their secret.

They’d never say what they really meant, not out loud, because it was something secret and dangerous, but all or nothing? They could do that and they would always do that. They would give each other everything, or they would be through.

“All or nothing,” he whispered into another kiss. 

It didn’t stay all sweet and innocent for long, because it was Bucky and Bucky was direct.

Bucky’s mouth moved off his and down his neck, leaving stinging bites and bruises, but never anywhere that anyone could see. He was always careful about that. He slid down over Steve’s body, and looked up in the faint light as he twisted each button of Steve’s shirt open with his teeth. 

Steve just watched him.

He could have helped, could have moved, but he loved watching Bucky, and the son of a gun knew it. Bucky nuzzled the folds of his shirt open and when he pressed his mouth just below Steve’s sternum, Steve’s breath caught, tight in his lungs.

“Easy,” Bucky murmured, rubbing his cheek there instead.

Steve drew his hand up to tangle in Bucky’s hair. “Your fault.”

Bucky lifted his head just enough for Steve to see his grin. “Isn’t it always?” He watched Steve in the dim light. “You good?”

Steve tugged on his hair. “Yeah. Why’d you stop?”

He felt Bucky’s chuckle vibrate against his legs, and spread his knees a little wider in wordless invitation. He felt the way Bucky’s breath caught, warm against his chest, in the way his ribs rose and fell between Steve’s thighs.

For once, Bucky didn’t say anything, and that made Steve’s heart beat a little faster.

It took a lot to make Bucky stop talking.

He bowed his head, pressing his brow to Steve’s chest. His breath was coming in warm gusts against Steve’s belly, and the sensation made Steve curl his fingers more tightly into Bucky’s hair, his hips shifting.

“God, Steve…”

Steve dragged his nails over the nape of Bucky’s neck. “Take my pants off,” he breathed, his heart racing. 

They’d seen each other naked before. They’d grown up together after all. 

It was different now, though. 

It had been different every time since they were fourteen. 

Bucky was working down the docks while Steve did clerical work in the stock rooms. All the lifting and carrying and a growth spurt had changed Bucky from the scrawny kid Steve was used to into something broader and stronger and fascinating. 

They went swimming in the river, and Bucky was standing there, wet and strong and laughing, and Steve had to stay in the water just a little too long. He’d almost ended up with pneumonia, all because his body responded in a way it had never responded before. 

Bucky noticed, because Bucky always noticed any time Steve froze up. Bucky noticed and less than three months later, they were fumbling in the dark any time they could, and doing whatever the hell it was they were doing. 

That was almost five years ago.

Now, Bucky’s hands were at the buttons of his pants, and he knelt back to let Steve stand up. He dragged Steve’s pants down in one jerk, and before Steve could think or move or anything, Bucky’s mouth was against the inside of Steve’s thigh.

“Buck,” Steve whispered, sinking his hands into Bucky’s hair. “Jesus, Buck.”

Bucky didn’t speak. He just pressed his hands to Steve’s thighs, guiding him to turn, drawing him down to kneel by the bed too. Steve shivered, Bucky’s shirt beneath his knees, and he felt Bucky plaster himself against Steve’s back. 

“This okay?” Bucky whispered. “Me and you?”

Steve pressed back into him. “All or nothing, Buck,” he whispered. He could feel Bucky’s cock pressing against his ass through the coarse material of his pants, and his breath felt tight and sharp in his chest. “Think it’ll hurt?”

Bucky dragged Steve’s collar down with his teeth and nibbled on his neck. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I went to the druggist.” He was grinning and Steve could feel it. “Asked for some oil for my poor aching ass. Told ’em I had piles.”

“You didn’t!”

Bucky almost giggled in his ear. “I heard it goes in easier if you oil it up,” he whispered, and Steve could feel himself blushing. One of Bucky’s hands slid down Steve’s belly and stroked his cock. “Brought the bottle with me, in case I could persuade you.”

“Persuade,” Steve murmured breathlessly. “Is that what this is?”

“Mm.” His lips were warm on Steve’s shoulder. “Can I?”

Steve wrapped his hand around Bucky’s around his cock. His own hand was cold but Bucky’s was so warm and god, it felt good. “What are you waiting for?” he whispered. 

He felt Bucky fumbling with his own pants behind his back, and when they were skin to skin, he had to bit his lower lip to stop himself from making embarrassing noises. Bucky let go of him, just for a second, and then his broad hands were on Steve’s ass, parting his cheeks, and Steve took a shaking breath as Bucky pressed his cock against him. It was hot and hard and slick with oil. 

“You sure?”

“God damn it, Barnes,” Steve groaned, grabbing at the rumpled sheets on the bed. “Stop asking questions!”

Bucky laughed hoarsely, and his hands were on Steve’s hips, and he pressed closer. 

It hurt, but it was a good kind of hurt, an intimate kind of hurt, and Steve’s fingers were twisted up so tight in the sheets and his hearts was racing when Bucky was pressed as deep as he could go. His breath was hot on Steve’s neck and his chest was against Steve’s back, and they were the closest they’d ever been, so close, and their chests were rising and falling at the same time. 

Steve was shivering again. The room was cold, and even with Bucky at his back, his pants were around his ankles and he was cold.

Bucky knew.

Bucky always knew.

His arms - warm and broad and strong from lifting crates and carrying sacks - wrapped around Steve, enclosing his whole chest, and slowly, Bucky started moving his hips. It made things better and worse and made Steve breathless in ways he’d never been breathless before. His head fell forward, and he tugged at the sheets, and he knew he was making soft, weak little sounds, hungry sounds, pushing his body back against Bucky’s.

Bucky was strong. Bucky could carry him anywhere. Bucky could move for both of them, and Steve’s head fell forward to rest on his clenched knuckles, as his breaths came shorter and shorter and Bucky moved faster and faster. Bucky’s mouth was on his shoulder, not biting, not quite kissing, just there and wet and his breath was hot.

“Buck,” Steve gasped out. “Down.”

He didn’t need to say more.

Bucky’s hand was around his cock and Steve turned his hand to bite into his wrist, almost hard enough to taste blood. His heart was pounding. His head was spinning. He felt his body tense and shudder as Bucky’s hand moved on him, and folded forward, panting. Bucky was still moving, slower now, letting him catch his breath, and something about the way he was moving made Steve press his eyes closed, fresh sparks of pleasure bursting behind his eyelids.

When he opened his eyes, he was on his back on the bed, wrapped in a blanket. He blinked, confused, at the ceiling.

“Buck?” he whispered, turning his head.

Bucky was kneeling by the bed, brow creased with concern. “Thank god!” he said, ruffling Steve’s hair. “I thought I’d killed you.”

Steve reached up, catching the dumb ass behind the head, and pulled his mouth down to claim a kiss. “Not quite,” he said. His chest still felt tight, but the rest of him felt more at ease than he had in months. “Just a little bit of trouble breathing.”

Bucky slid his hand under Steve’s head and kissed him, almost causing the same problem all over again. “Next time,” he said, his voice a growl against Steve’s lips, “you tell me if you’re having a problem. Don’t just fall over on me, right?”

“Next time?” Steve whispered, his fingers curling in Bucky’s hair. “You don’t want to get a separate cot?”

Bucky climbed up on the cot beside him, trapping him in a snug nest of blankets and Bucky’s warm, bare body. “What do you think?”

Steve curled onto his side to give Bucky more room. “I think we’re going to need to get some more blankets,” he said. “You always steal them.”

“Ha!” Bucky snorted, his arm slipping under Steve’s head and wrapping around him. “I’m not the one who always gets cold. You’re the one who steals the covers.”

Steve wrapped his leg over Bucky’s. “Maybe I’ll just have to use you.”

“Damn,” Bucky said cheerfully and kissed the top of Steve’s head. “Now shut up and get your breath back. I’m hungry and we can’t eat until you can walk straight.”

Steve shook his head slowly. “Why do I put up with you?”

Bucky’s arm tightened around him. “All or nothing, buddy. All or nothing.”


End file.
